A Proposal For The Officer. Christy Jeffries

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      “Sorry. Geek reference.” An embarrassing flush normally would’ve brought his color back with a vengeance after that less-than-cool admission, but he was woozily watching her put the cap back on her insulin pen and zip it up in its case.

      After several uncomfortable moments, the lady next to him broke the silence. “Who’s Angela?”

      “One of my assistants.”

      “Just one of them?”

      He was saved from having to respond to her sarcastic question by the pinging of his phone. Several texts full of copied and pasted information flooded his screen.

      “Hold on,” Kaleb said as he read.

      However, he was easily distracted by the woman beside him. Now that her color was returning, he could see that there was an edge to her girl-next-door appearance, an attitude that implied she wouldn’t back down from a fight. She opened a bottle of water sitting in her center console and chugged it until the plastic concaved into itself. Then she used the back of her hand to wipe the dampness from her mouth. “Angela certainly is fast.”

      He nodded. That was why he paid her the second highest salary in his company. “Okay, so it says here that, depending on the levels, it can take one to several hours to feel better. She’s also suggesting you drink more water and then eat something high in protein and complex carbs once your blood glucose levels return to a normal range.”

      “An hour? I can’t very well sit out here in my car until I’m feeling better. Would you mind giving me a ride?”

      “To the ER?” He felt his calf muscles clench, making him eager to stand up and run in the opposite direction. God, Kaleb hated hospitals more than he hated needles. Having multiple medical procedures during one’s adolescence tended to do that to a person.

      “No. Just to pick up my nephew.”

      “Can’t you get someone else to pick him up?”

      She looked at him as if he’d just asked her to hack into the CIA’s router network. “His mom, my sister, left town this weekend on something called a ‘babymoon’ and put me in charge. I can’t very well call her and say, ‘Oops, sorry, I forgot to pick up your son because I was in a diabetic crisis.’”

      “Actually, that’s exactly what you could do. Maybe he can get a ride home with a friend?”

      “Right. And then my sister would find out and wonder why I couldn’t handle it myself.”

      Kaleb seriously doubted that this woman slouched on the seat next to him could handle it. His heart constricted and his head was heavy, which was why he had to keep it supported against the door behind him as he balanced beside her, their bodies only a few inches apart. He of all people knew what it was like to not want someone—especially an overly concerned family member—to think he was weak or needed help.

      Still. He was shocked when she turned those pretty blue eyes on him and asked, “Can you give me a ride to the baseball field?”

      His throat closed in on itself as if it were the plastic water bottle she’d just drained. He coughed to clear it. “But...you don’t know me.”

      “Hi, I’m Molly.”

      Instinctively, because his mom had drilled good manners into him, he put his hand out and shook hers. “Kaleb.”

      “Good. Now we know each other.”

      “But you don’t know if I’m a criminal,” he argued.

      “I know that you’re the type to rush to aid a stranger, which means you have a hero complex.”

      “Ha,” he snorted. His brothers would argue that he was the least heroic of all of them, or at least the most self-absorbed. “Maybe I have a villain complex and you’re too weak to have figured it out yet.”

      “I am not weak.” Her piercing look sent a chill down the back of his neck. He’d always associated the name Molly with a lovable cocker spaniel. But right this second, she looked more like a pissed-off Chihuahua. “Besides, a villain would’ve already robbed me or kidnapped me by now. And bad guys don’t have trusty assistants named Angela.”

      “So you’re the expert on bad guys?” Why was he arguing with her about this? Just tell her you don’t want to give her a ride. Because he suddenly found himself actually wanting to take her anywhere she needed to go. She looked so delicate and fragile, yet he had a feeling there was a spine of steel under that petite frame. Plus, she was a mystery, a riddle, and he didn’t like leaving things unsolved.

      “If you’d met my ex, you’d quickly figure out that I’m definitely not an expert on jerks.” He raised a brow at that little admission and she clamped her eyes shut. “God, forget I said that.”

      Too late. Kaleb never forgot anything.

      “Sir,” a cashier with salt-and-pepper dreadlocks called as she crossed the parking lot. “You forgot your ice and your limes.”

      “Oh, geez, don’t let anyone see me like this.” Molly slouched lower in the seat. Great, now she was a cowering Chihuahua. “They’ll tell my sister.”

      Kaleb sighed and stood up. He jogged toward the cashier, trying to meet her halfway.

      “Thanks, Donae,” he said, reading the name tag on her apron. His father always said that people gave better service when you used their first name. Kaleb usually avoided the practice because it tended to invite familiarity when he was usually trying to keep the public from recognizing him. But he had a feeling he’d need all the allies he could get if he was going to survive the next ten days in this small town.

      Kaleb took the dripping bag from Donae’s hand and set it down on the asphalt. He reached into his back pocket and pulled out his wallet. “Listen, my friend isn’t feeling well and she left her shopping cart in aisle eight. Would you mind ringing those things up and throwing in a liter of water and one of the prewrapped turkey sandwiches from the deli section?”

      “No problem, Mr. Chatterson,” she replied. Ugh, that was why he didn’t do familiarity. It gave strangers the impression that they knew him, which was fine if they’d limit their long-winded conversations to his work life and not to which model or actress or pop singer he’d recently dated. Fortunately, Donae only gave him a wide smile and took the large bills he passed her. “And just so you know, your sister, Kylie, called the store a couple of minutes ago asking if you’d left yet. I told her you were on your way. You want me to call her back?”

      His jaw went stiff and he fought off the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose. Just like that, one mention of his awaiting family cemented Kaleb’s decision on whether he was going to give cute, determined Molly a ride to get her nephew. “Would you mind telling my sister something came up and I have to help out a friend?”

      Okay, so “friend” was a generous description. In fact, Kaleb sincerely doubted his new acquaintance wouldn’t have already blasted out of the parking lot without so much as a wave if he hadn’t pocketed her car keys.

      He hefted the ice into the bed of his dad’s lifted, half-ton truck, knowing he’d have to stop somewhere and get another bag before returning to his sister’s. Wiping a wet hand on his pant leg, he walked СКАЧАТЬ